Page 14 of So That Happened
He moved towards her and her giggle fit subsided. She was acutely aware of how his shorts and T-shirt fitted his body perfectly. How soft the golden skin of his throat looked. How much she wanted to feel the strength of him under her hands.
‘I know you’re trying to get rid of me, Josie, but I’m not budging. You can put up with me for a couple of days, right?’
It was more of an order than a question.
She ran through her options.
There were none.
It wasn’t as if she’d be able to physically chuck him out, and he seemed totally uninterested in her perfectly reasonable points of argument.
Ah, what the hell? She could put up with him for a short while. At least it would help to break the boredom. It was kind of fun, sparring with him. He was stimulating company, and she was rather enjoying just looking at him.
‘Okay. Fine. But the bed’s mine.’
He held his hands up. ‘You women and your passion for beds.’
‘Clinophilia.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Having a passion for beds is clinophilia.’
He gave her a stunned smile. ‘You just pulled that out of the air?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s general knowledge.’
He snorted. ‘Is it?’ He raised a seductive eyebrow. ‘Well, far be it from me to kick a lady out of my bed.’
She shook her head in wonder at his gall. ‘You can’t resist a double entendre, can you, Connor?’
‘I can’t help myself when I’m around you, Josie.’
She was so breathless she had to concentrate hard on sucking air into her constricted lungs. The combination of flirty talk and the proximity of his to-die-for body was having a devastating effect on her.
‘It’s nearly time to eat,’ he said quietly, a mirthful smile in his eyes.
He knew. He knew all too well.
She realised she was gawping at him and dragged her gaze away.
‘Smells great,’ she muttered.
When she glanced back at him the look on his face made her insides flip over. Breaking eye contact, he turned back to the stove and added some herbs to the pan. She felt the loss of his attention keenly, as if the sun had slipped behind a cloud.
Drumming her fingers against her legs, she looked around the kitchen for something to do, her nerves jumping.
‘Do you need any help? With supper?’
He looked back and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I think it’s probably better if I take care of it.’ He gestured towards the work surface. ‘No microwave,’ he said by way of explanation.
Her hackles rose. ‘Just because I don’t cook at home, it doesn’t mean I can’t be useful in the kitchen.’
He just smiled, not rising to her cross tone. ‘I’ve got this covered – but thanks.’
She shifted from foot to foot before leaning awkwardly against the chair back. She was reluctant to be on her own again after spending all day bored out of her brain.
He watched her in bemusement. ‘If you want something to do, there’s a puzzle book in the snug.’
